Avengers: Las Vegas
by CuttlefishRock
Summary: It's Thor's bachelor party so Tony, Bruce and Clint take him to Las Vegas to celebrate. Of course, nothing goes quite to plan, and when Steve shows up with some bad news, it gets even worse. Loosely follows the plot of The Hangover, but Avengers-style. T for language, violence and some sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**Welcome to my story! I hope you enjoy reading, and I will probably be able to update about once a week. **

**Quick note: This story is set after The Avengers, but is slightly AU as there's a certain important character missing. Don't worry, he/she will appear in future chapters ;)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter One

_Whiskey gin and brandy, with a glass I'm pretty handy._

_AC/DC_

-~(*)~-

_"You've reached Tony Stark; billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist. Leave a name and number, and I might get back to you. Or just call Pepper."_

Pepper Potts was getting alternately annoyed and concerned.

_"Hi, you've reached Dr Bruce Banner. Please leave your contact details and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you."_

No one out of Tony, Bruce, Steve or Clint were answering their phones.

_"This is Captain Steven Rogers. I am unable to take your call at the moment. Please try again later."_

This did not bode well at all.

_"Barton. Here comes the beep, you know what to do."_

With a sigh, she left yet another message. "Clint, it's Pepper. Again. What the hell are you guys doing? Call me, or I'll call Nick Fury." She hung up, tucked her phone into her pocket, and tried to think of the best way to let Jane know that there wasn't going to be a wedding today.

-~(*)~-

**Three Days Earlier**

"Vegas, huh? Flashing lights, loud noises, lots of civilians... Any alarm bells ringing for you?"

Thor, Bruce, Tony and Clint were sprawled around Avengers Tower, waiting for their pizzas to arrive.

"Bruce, it'll be fine," said Tony, reassuringly. He finished constructing his dirty martini with a few olives. "Fury told us that we're all strictly off-duty. I personally guarantee you that the worst thing that could happen is that you drink a little too much Jagermeister... Bit of vomit. Know what I'm saying?"

"What is Jagermeister?" Thor inquired, curiously, from one of the long couches, his hammer by his side as always.

"The drink of bad decisions," said Clint, twirling an arrow between his calloused fingertips.

Thor gave a regal, approving nod.

Bruce sighed, and rubbed his temples.

"Either way, you're coming," said Tony. He fluttered his eyelashes in an attempt at being adorable. "I need my science buddy."

"Pizza delivery, sir," piped up JARVIS.

"Excellent," said Tony.

"I'll go and open the door," said Clint, eyes glinting with slightly evil madness. He stood up, taking his bow and the arrow with him.

"Barton, no, you're not jumping out of the window again-!" shouted Bruce, as Clint began to run not at the door, but at the window.

"JARVIS, open the window!" Tony ordered.

Clint flew through the window into the darkness of the forty-floor drop, and carefully lined up a perfect shot, which left him hanging on the end of a strong, slender rope. Spotting the delivery driver at the door below him, he dropped the last few feet to land just behind him.

The delivery driver jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the stack of pizzas. "Do you have to do that every single time?"

Clint frowned at the thought of being predictable. "I still have the element of surprise, Shaun," he objected.

"So does kebab mystery meat."

"Did you just compare me to mystery meat? That's cold."

"Enjoy your pizzas," said Shaun, all but throwing them at the archer. "I'll see you next Thursday."

"It might not be next Thursday! It might be Tuesday!" Clint called, after Shaun's retreating figure.

"See you Tuesday, then, mystery meat."

Clint sighed, reentered the Tower, and stepped into the elevator. "Say, JARVIS?"

The high-tech elevator began its smooth ascent. "Yes, Sir?"

"Am I predictable?"

"Certainly, Sir. Perfectly consistant."

"Damn."

The elevator stopped, and Clint returned to the lounge.

"One day, Shaun isn't going to be there, and someone will tase you," remarked Tony, who was at the bar getting drinks for everyone.

"Please. Shaun can't get enough of me. He'd never leave me." Clint handed out the pizzas to their respective owners. "Where's Cap?"

"Meeting with Fury," said Bruce. "Should be back later."

"Well, he's coming," announced Tony, as he gave everyone their drinks. "I know that the super-soldier serum was meant to make him immune to alcohol, but I bet Vegas can break that. And he might just lose his virginity."

There was a stunned silence.

Thor took a bite of pizza.

"Tony, if Steve truly has made it this long with... it, do you really think he'll want to lose it in Vegas with a complete stranger?" Bruce asked.

"He probably would offer to marry her," said Tony, clearly pondering the pros and cons. "I'd rather not have a Captain America groupie in the tower."

"Phil still comes over sometimes," pointed out Clint. He took a swig of beer. "Damn you, Tony, now I can't stop thinking about Steve's dick."

"I worry about you, Hawkeye," said Tony.

"Can we just not make Thor's bachelor party a mission to get Steve laid, OK?" said Bruce, firmly.

"Agreed," said Clint, quickly.

"Fine!" said Tony, downing half his glass in a gesture of surrender.

There was a moment of near-silence, punctuated only by Thor steadily chewing.

"Have you booked a couple of rooms yet?" Bruce asked Tony, sensibly.

"Villa."

Clint ate a slice of pizza, and gave the rest to Thor, who took it wordlessly. "Was that a sneeze, or did you just say 'villa'?"

"We're not even gonna be in the room," said Bruce, wiping his fingers clean on a napkin. "It's unnecessary."

"Look around you!" Tony said, gesturing around the room. "Is Avengers Tower strictly necessary? Or is it unnecessary but awesome?"

"We can share beds," said Clint, a glint of mischief appearing in his eyes, "no big deal."

"I am NOT sleeping next to that sneaky sniper," said Tony immediately. "You have the top floor of the tower to yourself for a reason, Legolas."

"How big is the villa?" asked Bruce.

"Six bedrooms, private pool. Fifteen minutes from the Strip. Nothing too extortionate, just practical."

For a moment, Bruce looked like he was going to argue, but then wisely returned to eating.

"Happy with this, Thor? It is your bachelor weekend, after all," said Clint, standing up to get another beer.

"It appears to be a fine plan," said Thor, neatly stacking the two empty pizza boxes on the coffee table. "We drink, we fight, we make our ancestors proud!"

"Anyone want another beer?" Hawkeye asked the room at large. Tony and Thor raised their hands.

"No fighting," said Bruce, firmly. "We are normal people, on a bachelor party. That means no alter-egos. No Iron Man suits, Tony. Clint, no bow."

Clint passed the bottles out, and sat down with an appalled look on his face.

Tony gave a cry of disgust and dismay. "It's for security! Look what happened in Monaco."

"We're off duty," Bruce said, calmly and firmly.

"What about Mjolnir?"

The look in Thor's eyes was answer enough.

"Mjolnir can remain in Thor's custody," Bruce allowed, "but I remain hopeful that it shall not have to be used."

Thor nodded curtly in agreement.

"He does love that hammer," muttered Tony.

"I love arrows," said Clint, twirling one in his hand fondly.

"OK," said Tony, his plan already formed. "So, check-in time is 3pm tomorrow. Are you guys staying here tonight?"

"I've drunk too much to drive back to The Nest," said Clint, cheerfully opening another bottle of beer.

"I would like to remain here," said Thor.

"I live here," said Bruce.

"I forget details like that," muttered Tony, standing up to pour himself a scotch. "Right. It takes about five hours to get to Vegas, so we need to get to the jet before ten. What time is it?" He passed the rest of the bottle of scotch to Thor, before sitting down.

Bruce checked his watch and exhaled in surprise. "Nearly two."

"Tony, does the jet still have the stripper poles?" Clint inquired.

"Yes. Why, are you planning on showing us your moves?" Tony asked.

"You wish you could be so lucky," said Clint, with a hearty wink in Tony's direction.

"Please don't try and chat up the cabin crew. Isn't half of SHIELD enough for you?"

"Funnily enough, after helping Loki to kill a lot of people and almost destroy the world, I haven't had many offers," said Clint, dryly.

"Fair point. Still. No sexual harrassment of my staff, please. Pepper will be angry. Angry Pepper is not happy."

Clint shrugged, and finished the rest of his beer. "Still no sign of Cap?"

"He probably got out late and went straight home," said Bruce.

Clint stood up, and stretched out his back. "Right, my little chicks, I'm heading up." He picked up his bow and arrows from the glass coffee table.

"Good plan," said Bruce, standing up too.

"Nighty-night," said Tony, holding out his empty glass to Thor.

"Sleep well," said Thor, pouring a little into the glass. They clinked their drinking vessels together, and continued drinking while the others slept.

-~(*)~-

**Next chapter: Vegas. Hope to see you there :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**Hi guys! Thanks for taking the time to read this story. This was an interesting chapter to write. It wasn't intended to be written as fully as this, but I'm glad that it did. Hope you enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter Two

_Rise up this mornin', smiled with the risin' sun_

_Bob Marley_

-~(*)~-

Bruce Banner carefully wrapped a bottle of Regaine in a t-shirt, and hid it right at the bottom of his bag. Turns out that turning into an enormous, green rage monster didn't stop his hair from thinning.

Meanwhile, Clint fondly tucked another explosive arrowhead into his bag, making sure that it was secure and hidden. "Just in case," he whispered to it, before zipping the bag up and slinging it onto his back.

"Are you hiding weapons?" Tony demanded from behind him.

"Jesus," said Clint, almost dropping his bag. "When did you become so sneaky?"

Tony set down his suitcase with an audible clank. "After you more or less moved in. Sneaky snipers make me nervous."

Clint looked really quite pleased with himself. "Is that the suitcase suit?"

"Don't you dare tell Cap."

"This is meant to be a holiday!" Clint protested.

"Says he with arrowheads hidden in his luggage."

"How did you know that? How long have you been hiding in my room?"

Tony shrugged. "My building."

"No, how long?"

"Twenty minutes I guess."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "You pervert. You watched me get out of the shower."

"Really, Barton, which looks worse: you coming out of the shower naked singing 'Three Little Birds' by Bob Marley, to find me in your room, or you coming out the shower naked singing, not finding me in your room, dressing, and then me appearing?"

"Why were you lurking in my room in the first place?"

Tony sighed. "Help me hide the MK V. It's coming with me, dammit. This is the absolute minimum protection that I'm bringing with me."

"Understandable. I'll help you hide the suit, but only if you hide a bow in there too."

"Deal," said Tony.

-~(*)~-

"I don't think that Tony has slept," said Bruce, quietly.

Clint looked over at Tony, who was arguing with the coffee machine.

"I'm sick of this insubordinate behaviour. You have one job in life. One job. And you fail at it. You fail. You failure." Tony bashed the coffee machine with his fist, and it started loudly grinding beans.

"I quite agree," said Clint, swigging his orange juice.

"Oh, and Jane did mention that we shouldn't let Thor gamble. She thinks it will end badly," said Bruce, carefully peeling an orange for his breakfast.

"Yeah, Pepper told me to not let Tony drink too much. Exactly how am I meant to stop him from drinking?" Clint asked.

Bruce started dissecting the orange. "With difficulty, I think."

"Jesus, they're like gremlins. They come with instructions and shit. And why are we the accountable ones?"

"Because Coulson's not coming, and Cap still isn't back."

Clint frowned. "Still not back?"

"Nope. He did leave a message on the phone, saying that he might be late."

"I thought he was just doing debrief with Fury?"

Bruce considered a slice of orange. "I'm sure he's fine, maybe it's just complicated."

"It is a bit worrying, though, isn't it?" pondered Clint. "I mean, Fury was all 'no weapons, get drunk' and now Cap's been detained."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Tony trying to roundhouse kick the coffee machine.

"I should have gone back to The Nest. My appliances behave themselves," muttered Clint.

"Where's Thor?" Bruce called over to Tony.

"I'm going to have to use instant. I fucking hate instant."

"Tony?"

"I paid damn good money for proper coffee. Beautiful, perfectly balanced, responsibly sourced coffee. But now..." He glared hatefully at the machine, which once again tried and failed to grind the coffee beans.

"Tony?"

Tony picked up a screwdriver from the kitchen counter, and advanced towards the appliance. "It's a mild issue. It should be a mild issue, at least."

"Tony, you have a crazed look in your eyes."

"Just need to dismantle.." He brought the screwdriver down repeatedly in a stabbing motion, which apparently had the same affect as removing the blockage and adjusting the loose screw.

"You look like a mad man," said Clint, genuinely worried. "I'm now more concerned that you've been sneaking around my floor of the tower, spying on my morning routine."

"What?" Bruce demanded.

Tony stopped stabbing the coffee machine, and looked over at them, coffee debris covering his face and torso, like a murderer covered in the blood of his victims. "Who wants coffee?"

"No, thanks," said Bruce, holding up the remains of his orange, as if it might defend him.

"Never again," said Clint, trying desperately not to look at the screwdriver still grasped in Tony's hand, gently dripping coffee onto the floor.

Tony fixed three mugs for himself, then joined Bruce and Clint at the breakfast bar. He inhaled the steam, his expression becoming blissful, then his entire body seemed to relax. "Good morning."

"Are you feeling more alive now?" Bruce asked, tentatively.

Tony looked at him as if he had only just noticed he was there. "Good morning!"

"Hi, Tony. Where's Thor?"

"Oh, he went to say goodbye to Jane before we leave," said Tony, taking a life-giving sip of coffee. "Oh, that's beautiful. That is heaven."

"Any more from Cap?" Clint asked.

"He said he'd meet us in Vegas. Something's come up, apparently. Nothing terrible, just taking longer than anticipated."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Captain America is going to navigate Vegas alone?"

Tony considered this for a moment. "He's near the Grand Canyon anyway. I'm sure someone from SHIELD can drive him. He'll be fine."

"He has coped remarkably well so far," noted Bruce.

"Ten bucks says he'll turn up at three in the morning with a traffic cone on his head and a stripper under each arm, shouting 'God Bless America'," said Clint, with a cackle.

"I will take you up on that," said Tony. "Though I hope you're right." He finished his first coffee, and started on the second.

With a rumble of lightning, Thor burst through the window. Luckily, it was the one that Clint had jumped out of the previous night, so it was open. Unfortunately, Thor had miscalculated his landing somewhat, and ended up falling headfirst into the coffee machine.

"Ah, the demi-god appears," said Tony, "and promptly breaks my life-support machine. And the warrently does not cover such things, I have been strictly informed. New York was murder on my home insurance."

"My apologies," said Thor, brushing coffee beans off his cloak. "A flock of birds distracted me."

"What kind?" Clint asked, curiously.

"Was it that group of bastards that keep shitting on the tower?" Tony demanded, cradling his two cups of coffee as though he thought Thor would grab them and smash them.

"Is it time to leave yet?" Bruce asked, hopefully, eyeing the clock.

Thor made short work of a litre of orange juice.

"Have you finished packing?" asked Tony, more sharply than was strictly necessary.

"Of course," said Bruce, slightly offended. "Have you?"

"Yep," said Tony, popping the 'p'.

"Glad to hear it." Bruce peered at him. "No weapons, right?"

"No, no. No weapons."

"Good." Bruce stood up, and went to fetch an apple from the fruit bowl.

Tony leant over to whisper to Clint. "Technically, not a weapon as a whole. It's a protective suit with weapons attached."

"Still insisting it's not a weapon?" Clint asked.

"Too fucking right." Tony finished his third cup of coffee, and spoke up. "Are we all ready?"

"Yup," said Clint.

"All good here," said Bruce.

"I am prepared to undertake this journey," said Thor.

"Good good. Get moving. Vegas calls."

-~(*)~-

**I love reviews :3**


	3. Chapter 3

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**Hi, sorry for the slight delay. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter Three

_Show me the way to the next whiskey bar_

_The Doors_

-~(*)~-

"I'd forgotten how much I hate planes," said Bruce, rubbing his temples as they all stepped off the jet.

"Get used to it, Doc," said Tony, sunglasses already on as they walked towards the waiting car. "Let's get to the villa so I can pass out."

"If you'd slept last night you wouldn't have that problem," said Bruce, sensibly.

"He is a fine drinking companion," said Thor, proudly.

They all slung their bags into the trunk.

"See? Thor appreciates me." Tony slid into the back seat of the car, and huddled in the corner.

"We're here to excessively drink. Why start that already hungover?" asked Bruce, clambering into the seat next to Tony.

"I'm taking full advantage of being off-duty. I haven't been drunk properly since the day after New York was invaded by the Chitauri."

Thor just about managed to squash into the spacious car. "A true warrior can still perform at his best while intoxicated to the point of mumbling speech and swaying gait."

Clint squeezed in next to Thor.

Tony nodded approvingly.

"None of you were in Budapest," said Clint, with a sigh. "I was off duty then. Just a couple of bottles of Unicum and then... Bam. You lot know what happened. I've been suspicious of heavy drinking on nights off since that. It would've been hard enough to face that sober."

The car pulled away smoothly, and barely fifteen minutes later, they pulled up outside their temporary home.

They all clambered out, and slammed the car doors.

"Holy shit."

Tony pushed a code into the entrance panel, and the door clicked open to admit them.

It was enormous.

From the end of the hallway to the left, was a step down to a cosy-feeling living room. A huge, grey speckled marble fireplace was the main feature of the room, surrounded by an assortment of plush brown couches that had the texture of marshmallows. A huge burgandy rug seemed to cuddle and massage every toe as you stepped on it.

To the right from the hallway was the kitchen and dining room. Every surface was glass or black marble, reflecting the soft indoor lighting. Everything screamed of money, but it worked so well that it was expensively tasteful.

To the left of the hallway was a beautifully grand staircase, the perfect beckon upstairs to the five gorgeously furnished bedrooms. All had luxuriously huge, cloud-soft, leather beds, with 50 inch flat-screen TVs embedded into the walls, and hotel-style en-suite bathrooms.

"Tis most impressive," admitted Thor. "I am much indebted to you, man of iron."

"You're welcome. It's only because I love you," said Tony.

"This is fucking Vegas!" said Clint. Out of habit, he committed the layout of the villa to memory, just in case he needed to make a quick escape.

"This place is enormous!" said Bruce, peering in yet another gorgeous bedroom.

"OK, ladies, pick a room," said Tony, staggering into the closest room. He fell backwards onto the cloud-like bed. "Get ready. We're heading out in two hours. Clint, don't do anything sneaky, no explosives, no tampering with anything. Where's the coffee machine?" Less than a minute later, he was snoring.

The others moved back downstairs.

Bruce checked his watch. "Give it four hours. What do you fancy for dinner, Thor?"

"What is the local delicacy?" Thor inquired.

"All-you-can-eat is pretty popular here," said Clint, rummaging through some flyers that were stuck up on a memo-board near the door.

"Sounds perfect," said Thor.

Suddenly, Bruce's cell phone rang. He fumbled it out of his pocket, and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bruce, it's Jane. Did you guys arrive OK?"

"Yes, no problems. Did you want to talk to Thor?"

"No, no, just checking you're all OK. I won't bother you guys. Darcy's arrived. We're at the spa with Pepper."

"Sounds lovely. Heard anything from Cap?" Bruce asked.

"Er, no. Have you?"

"Apparently he's meeting us here, but we haven't heard anything more definite yet."

"Oh, OK. I'll keep an ear out, and let you know if I hear anything."

"Thanks, Jane."

"OK, I'll let you go now. Have fun. Stay safe. Don't let Thor gamble."

"I'll try on all accounts."

"Thanks, Bruce. Bye, bye, bye."

Bruce hung up the phone.

Clint selected one of the flyers and showed it to Bruce and Thor. "All cuisines, favourable reviews all round, ten minute taxi ride from here. Sound good?"

"Sounds fine to me," said Bruce.

"I fear we shall make a considerable dent in their profits," mused Thor, gazing wistfully at all of the listed foods.

"Cool. Let's chill out for a bit. Anyone want coffee?" Clint headed towards the super-shiny kitchen, and began searching through the cupboards.

"You do make a fine brew," said Thor.

"Just a small one, please, Clint," said Bruce.

Ten minutes later, three beautifully constructed coffees were on the glass table, looking like a work of art. Wow. Clint kind of wanted to take a photo of his handiwork, and that didn't happen very often, especially not during work hours.

Thor delicately sipped from his mug. "A work of art, my friend."

Clint smiled smugly.

Bruce returned downstairs, looking confused and a little annoyed.

"What's up, Doc?" Clint asked, in a passable Bugs Bunny voice.

"I think someone went through my bag," said Bruce, sitting down at the table.

Clint pushed the smallest cup of coffee over to him. "Why, is something missing?"

"Just... toiletries," said Bruce, vaguely.

"I have a spare toothbrush," Clint offered.

"Thanks, but it's hair product I'm missing."

"What do you need? I've got shampoo, gel...?"

"Regaine?"

Clint hummed. "That'll be Tony. You know how he does 'hilarious' pranks when he's drunk and sleep-deprived."

"Great," sighed Bruce. "I'll bug him about it later."

Thor finished his coffee. "Would either of you care for some Asgardian mead to start the celebrations?"

"I had Medovukha in Russia," mused Clint. "I loved that stuff."

"Well, the Asgardian variety is the finest you shall ever indulge in," promised Thor, finding glasses and pouring out four portions with a gentleness that didn't suit his indimidating size.

"Shall we wait for Tony?" Bruce asked, giving his glass a delicate sniff. It smelt a little musty, yet bright and clean.

"No need, the party has arrived!" Tony strutted over to the table, stole Clint's untouched coffee, and downed it.

Clint made a horrified noise as his work of art disappeared, never to be seen again. "You monster."

Tony picked up his glass of mead. "Excellent choice, Point Break."

"How was your sleep?" Bruce asked, still bitter about his Regaine.

"Great, thanks, Doc. I'm now ready and rearing to go." He lifted his glass in the air. "To Thor and Jane, and their long and happy lives together!"

They all clinked their glasses together.

"Except that, you know, he's practically immortal, so really-"

Clint stepped very deliberately on Tony's foot. "Thor and Jane!"

"Thor and Jane," Bruce echoed.

Thor smiled broadly as he and his comrades drank their mead. He was right, it was delicious. It tasted like sunshine would taste.

"So," said Tony, after they'd finished the bottle, "who's ready to hit Vegas?"

-~(*)~-

"May I take your drink orders, gentlemen?" asked a low, sensual voice.

"Martini. Dirty. Very dirty," requested Tony, not even looking at the waitress.

"Just a tap water, please," said Bruce.

"Five tankards of your strongest ale," requested Thor.

"Certainly," she said, making a few scribbles on her notepad. "And for you, sir?" she asked Clint.

The scent of lust; sweat, perfume, and alcohol, seemed to swirl around her. It was dirty and moreish and unbelievably good.

Clint couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't close his goddamn mouth to stop the possible escape of drool.

"Maybe a tap water for him, too," said Bruce.

"Lightweight," muttered Tony.

"Are you well?" Thor asked Clint, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I love you," Clint burst out, unable to stop it.

"Aw, you're so sweet," said the waitress, before turning and walking back to the bar.

"You're in there, mate," said Tony, giggling.

"Would you like to go back to the villa?" Bruce asked, kindly.

"Perhaps not the best mating ritual to employ," said Thor, wisely.

"Did you not see her? She's a fucking goddess." Clint swayed on his stool to get a better look at the blonde waitress.

"Well, I'm afraid that you've blown the small chance that you had with her by physically and literally drooling, then shouting at her," said Tony, still giggling.

Clint groaned, and knocked his head against the table. "I don't want to be an Avenger any more. Even when I do get girls, they just want to use me as a way to meet you guys. Maybe not you, Bruce. Sorry."

"Understandable," said Bruce, with an understanding nod.

The waitress returned with a tray of their drinks. "Anything else I can get you, gentlemen?"

Tony, Thor and Bruce all looked at Clint, to see if he would dare.

Clint thought for a moment, then exhaled. "Not unless you want to be the hen to my cock?"

The waitress blinked. Clearly, she had never heard that before.

Thor squinted at the archer for a long time.

Tony burst into giggles again.

Bruce slowly shook his head in disappointment.

Clint went bright red. "No, no, that wasn't meant to be kinky. See, I'm a bird. Well, my nickname is a bird..."

"Blue tit?" Tony suggested, in a high-pitched voice.

"And as a general rule," continued Clint, shamelessly, "a female bird is a 'hen', and a male bird is a..." He muttered the last word completely inaudibly.

"Say it," Tony goaded him. "Say 'cock' again. Cherry on the cake. Condom on the cock. Say it."

"Is a cock," said Clint, tonelessly.

"That's... good to know," said the waitress, before almost running away from their table.

Thor, Tony and Bruce all stared at Clint.

"You're such a cock," said Tony, finally.

"Shut up, she likes me," said Clint, confidently.

"Of course she does," said Tony, condescendingly.

Clint swiped Tony's drink in retaliation, and downed it in one swallow.

"You don't even like martinis."

"I do if it annoys you," said Clint, resisting the urge to drink some water to get rid of the taste.

"I'm going to pop outside for a minute," announced Bruce, standing up slowly.

"You OK, Doc?" Clint asked, reaching for his water nonchalantly.

"Yeah, just need a bit of air. I think it's all the flashing lights, they're making me a little dizzy."

"Want some company?" Tony offered, taking one of Thor's tankards of ale instead.

"I'm pretty sure that I can look after myself," said Bruce.

"See you in five, then."

-~(*)~-

**Six Hours Later**

Tony's eyes gradually opened. At first, the light seemed cruelly bright enough to blind him, but a few blinks later and he could see. Granted, his vision was fuzzy around the outside, and someone had clearly stamped on his head a few times, and possibly sandpapered his mouth, but he was alive. Just.

Using all of his limited strength, he shuffled around on the floor -next to the perfectly usable bed, he noted, bitterly- and finally managed to sit upright.

He clamped a hand to his face, and focused on breathing for a moment. He hadn't had a hangover this bad since he was fifteen.

"Guys!" he called, trying to hide the weakness in his voice. "There had better be coffee on!"

He listened hard for a reply. Unless there was coffee in the pot, he wasn't moving another inch.

Silence.

"Damn." He tried to stand, but the world was clearly being shaken like a Polaroid, so he crawled -yes, crawled- out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to the kitchen. "Where is everyone? Thor snores like a thunderstorm, so he definitely isn't here." He pulled himself into a standing position, using the kitchen counter to stable himself.

There was no sign of anyone at all. No discarded coats, shoes, random articles of clothing, vomit, nothing.

"Clint!" Tony called, tentatively climbing the stairs again. "Bruce? Thor?"

An impending sense of something being very wrong started to flow over him.

"Shit," he said, seeing all the empty, perfectly-made beds, which clearly meant that none of them were there, or had been there.

There was a knock at the front door.

Almost tripping over his own feet in anticipation, Tony stumbled down the stairs, and yanked the door open.

"Well," said Nick Fury, "you have been busy."

-~(*)~-

**To be continued... :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**Many thanks for the interest in this story! This chapter is for anyone who asked about Clintasha ;) **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter Four

_I saw the midnight coming, and I watched her go_

_Kings of Leon_

-~(*)~-

"I don't know what you mean," said Tony Stark.

Nick Fury raised an eyebrow. "Have you tried watching the news this morning?"

"Ah, fuck.."

Nick crossed into the living room, switched on the TV, and gestured for Tony to join him.

Trying not to stumble too obviously, Tony walked over to the nearest couch, and all but collapsed onto it.

It didn't take Nick long to find a news channel.

Oh.

The horror.

Tony saw his own drunken self falling over six -no, seven- times from the door of a bar to a taxi which, ironically, was only four steps apart.

The headlines:

"Quiet Night In For The Avengers?"

"Alcohol Tolerance Isn't Included In Superhero Package Deal"

"Stark Naked"

Hang on... Oh fuck.

"You see the problem I have?" Nick asked, pausing the TV at a rather unfortunate time, which froze the image of Tony running down the street, completely naked except for his sunglasses.

"It could be a lookalike," Tony mumbled.

Nick sighed, and unpaused.

Thor ran into view behind Tony, picking up Tony's discarded clothing as he went.

"Ah, shit."

Nick turned the TV off, to Tony's joy. "So. Where are the others?"

Tony rubbed his eyes. "I can honestly say that I have no idea. Any footage of them?"

"SHIELD did get footage of Thor and Hawkeye flying through Vegas, but nothing on Banner."

"Fuck, that's not good."

"Indeed. So, what's the plan?"

Tony thought for a while, then sighed. "Coffee."

-~(*)~-

Blearily, Clint Barton forced his eyes open.

Immediately, he wished that he hadn't, because he was hanging in the air by his foot. "Fuck me sideways with a ladle." He managed to pull himself up. "Fuck."

Hangovers didn't normally leave Clint up a tree. In the middle of the desert. Naked.

"Shit."

He hid in the sparse branches of the tree for a moment, trying to gather his senses.

"Shit. Right. Oh, fuck."

He sighed, and cast his eyes slowly over his surroundings.

Nothing.

Just desert.

Lots of sand.

Jesus.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He lithely jumped down from the tree, and leaned against the trunk, rubbing his eyes.

This had to be a joke. It had to be. But didn't people normally play pranks on the groom on at the bachelor party?

Clint looked around uselessly for his cell phone, his clothes, a sign post, pretty much anything.

"Right, you fuckers. You're gonna pay for this one day. I don't know how, but it's gonna fucking happen. This ain't funny. Could you lot have at least left me with some sunblock? I'm gonna get crispy."

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples furiously. "Shit. Do I stay here or try to head to civilization? Not that I know which way that is, anyway."

Grimly, he made up his mind, and started walking away from his tree, into the wilderness.

-~(*)~-

"Right. You've had your coffee. About three gallons of it."

"It's a sacred time of the day," said Tony, twitching slightly, but feeling infinitely more alive.

"Brilliant. Right. We have a problem. Quite a big problem, actually."

"Missing Avengers, yeah, I know."

"I mean, as well as the missing Avengers," said Nick, looking more serious than Tony had ever seen him before.

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not."

-~(*)~-

Swearing occasionally, Clint continued to jog along.

He estimated that he had traveled around twenty miles, but he had now been assured of civilization by recent tyre tracks, which he was now following.

He really wanted some water.

And a bacon sandwich.

And some pants.

Luckily, on the horizon, there seemed to be a structure of some sort.

Clint picked up his pace, hoping to Christ that this wasn't some sort of illusion.

After fifteen minutes, he reached a large, completely isolated trailer. It was about the size of a two-bedroom bungalow, camouflage green in colour, and seemed to be made of some sort of reinforced metal. Next to it was a black, non-descript van, which had clearly made the tracks that Clint had followed.

Stealthily, Clint began to scout out the situation. There were no keys in the van, nor were there any windows or doors open on the trailer.

Suddenly, the front door was thrown open.

Clint had the split-second, horrifying decision to make: to cover his exposed nether regions, or attempt to defend himself. He decided to split.

As he covered himself as best he could with his left hand, his right hand formed the 'peace' symbol, which he waved madly at his potential saviour.

"Can I help you?" asked a gorgeous, smokey voice.

Clint made a very unattractive noise; it wasn't every day that he wake up naked in the desert, run about a marathon, and then come face to face with the most beautiful woman in the world... who happens to be pointing a gun in your face.

She was of medium height, slim with lean muscles, yet with the kind of curves that left men with dry mouths. A skin-tight black catsuit hugged her body, but it was clear that it wasn't made for visual appeal: it was practical, covered in weaponry, and reinforced in certain area for extra protection. She was dressed to kill, in the most literal sense. Her emerald eyes were sharp and unforgiving. The M4A1 Carbine she carried seemed to be held with familiarity and ease.

All in all, she was as beautiful as he had thought she was the previous night... only today, this 'waitress' was no longer blonde... she was a vibrant redhead.

-~(*)~-

"So, what's the problem?" Tony asked, wondering if it was socially acceptable to make a couple of espressos.

"Loki. We have reliable intel that Loki made a recruit when he was attacking New York. This recruit was not used in the fighting, being far too valuable for that. The main purpose was to spy and gather information on the Avengers."

"What's the point of that if Loki's in Asgard?"

Nick Fury sighed. "He's escaped."

"Sorry, what, how?" Tony dragged his hands through his messy hair. "Thor personally gave his word that Loki would be entirely unable to-"

"Loki is a master of deceit and illusion. He's the god of mischief, for fuck's sake."

"Is that why Cap was detained?"

"He was aiding us with Loki's recruit."

"Any luck with that? What are we facing here, exactly?"

"Stark, have you heard of Black Widow?"

-~(*)~-

**I know it's not the longest chapter, but in the next one we're catching up with some other characters, and it didn't read right for it to all be in one massive chapter. Forgive me? See you next chapter! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**After the last chapter there was some confusion over Natasha's part in the story, so I'd like to clarify something here. In this story, Natasha was never an Avenger, and has never met any of the other characters before. Hopefully, the next chapter will explain some more questions that you may have :) PS. Welcome to the story, Cap :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter Five

_I'll be here waiting ever so patiently for you to snap out of it_

_Arctic Monkeys_

"So... I'm going to return to HQ, try and minimize the amount of publicity this bachelor party has received, and try to track down the god of thunder, the best archer in the world, and the Hulk," said Nick Fury, sounding very unimpressed. "Cap should be here in a few minutes; you two can start conducting a search." He left the villa in a swirl of black leather.

Tony blinked a few times, resisted the urge to lay down for a while, and stood up. "This has to be a joke, this has to be a joke..." he chanted, as he stumbled upstairs to get changed.

He pulled on jeans, a Black Sabbath t-shirt, and boots, and felt instantly more human.

"Right. Let's do this. Baby steps, baby steps..." He stepped into his beautiful en-suite bathroom, and quickly brushed his teeth to get rid of the scotch residue.

"And they tried to stop me from bringing the suitcase suit," he muttered, as he returned to his room to get it.

Only... it wasn't there.

He scanned the room more slowly, checking every inch of the floor. Nothing. He checked under the bed. Nothing. He checked the wardrobe. Nothing.

"This isn't funny," Tony said, loudly, even though he knew no one could hear him.

He checked his bathroom, and from there went on a thorough search of the entire house.

-~(*)~-

Bruce Banner woke up with the worst headache of his entire life.

He felt like he had been electrocuted, put through a washing machine, and then a tumble dryer.

Not the best feeling in the world.

He peered at his surroundings.

Not the best situation in the world, either.

He seemed to be in a ten by thirty foot reinforced glass cage.

An identical copy to the helicarrier cage.

_How?_

-~(*)~-

Tony's phone was ringing, and he couldn't find it.

"Shit, shit, shit..."

He ran around the house, listening closely to determine it's location.

After rushing around each room and tossing around a fair amount of bedding, he found it in Thor's bed.

"Yes? Hello? Hello?"

"Tony?" Pepper's voice was confused.

"Pepper?"

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"What? No. Any news?"

"What do you mean?" Pepper asked, immediately turning suspicious.

"You mean you haven't...?"

"Haven't what, Tony?"

Tony slowly exhaled air through his nose. "I take it the spa doesn't have TV?"

"No, why? What did you do?" Pepper was getting increasingly shrill, which made Tony wish for another few pints of coffee.

Blessed with a moment of sheer genius, Tony smoothly lied himself out of the situation. "Nothing to worry about, I promise. Thor just had a few too many. Obviously, paparazi saw, but it was nothing terrible. He was just really funny. But probably best to not let Jane see."

"Oh, OK. Are you sure it's all OK? Do you need me to do a press release or something?" Pepper seemed a little calmer.

"Fury's handling it, don't worry yourself. Just relax at the spa, OK?"

"OK, if you're sure?"

Tony nodded, before remembering that she couldn't see him. "No problem at all. See you when we get back."

"See you soon, Tony."

"Ooh, hang on. Can you pass me over to Darcy?"

"Uh, sure..."

There was a rustle, before Darcy's distinctive voice appeared on the end of the line.

"Whassup?"

"Darcy. Tony here. Could you move away from Pepper and Jane, please? Find a nice quiet corner."

"Sinister, much?" Tony could dimly hear Darcy walking for about half a minute, then sprawl onto a deckchair. "I am alone," she announced, in monotone.

"Right. Three things."

"Three, shoot."

"Actually, make that five."

"Five?!"

"Number one, I expect to be able to fully trust you with all the information that I'm about to divulge to you. Are we clear on that?" Tony asked.

"Top secret stuff, huh?"

"Utterly top secret, at least to those who don't currently have access to TV."

"What's happened?" Darcy asked, excitedly.

"Not a word, hint or nudge to Pepper or Jane, OK?"

"No nudging, done."

"Number two, this is serious stuff. Treat it as such."

"Serious, done."

"Number three, Loki is running riot again, aided by a pretty damn infamous spy called Black Widow."

"Holy shit!"

"Number four, I've lost Thor, Clint and Bruce."

"WHAT?! How do you just lose the god of thunder? How pissed did you get? Jane's gonna kill you. Pepper's gonna kill you. I'm surprised Fury hasn't already killed you!"

"Number five, ring my suitcase."

"Fury knows, doesn't he? Of course he does, he has access to a TV and the news channel. I don't like spas. They glare at me when I listen to my iPod. Supposed to be a 'technology-free zone' which is bullshit."

"Please call my suitcase."

"So, what's happening on the news? Have you started looking for them yet? Are they definitely alive? They're not on the roof, are they? Coz I've seen The Hangover."

Tony turned the coffee machine on again. "Darcy, please, call my suitcase."

"What?"

"My suit-suitcase. Get JARVIS to call it. Please."

"Are you stuttering?"

"Nope. The suitcase. For my suit. Please."

"Why do you need me to get JARVIS to ring your suitcase?"

Tony downed his espresso. "Darcy, you clearly understand the task I've set you. Please, please, do the task."

"Have you lost your suitcase?"

"Yep."

"Have you checked the roof?"

"Nope."

"I'd check the roof," Darcy mused. "You're not doing very well at not losing things, are you?"

"No, least of all, my sanity. Are you going to call my suitcase?"

"Sure. Give me a sec."

"Thanks, Darcy. And not a word to Pepper or Jane. Got it?"

"You got it." She hung up.

-~(*)~-

After nearly twenty minutes of unsuccessful searching for a ringing suitcase, Tony gave in to Darcy's way of thinking, and managed to climb onto the roof.

"So that's where Clint's mattress went," Tony muttered, wondering how much money would be taken out of the -quite hefty- deposit. "Hang on..."

He dialled Pepper's phone. Darcy answered.

"I've rung the damn suitcase like a million times," Darcy grumbled.

"Darcy, how did The Hangover end?"

"The groom was on the roof the whole time," she replied, instantly.

Tony did a lap of the roof, looking for any sign of any missing Avenger.

"You're on the roof, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged. Clint's mattress and bedding are up here, but no humans."

"Damn."

"OK, there's a car approaching. Darcy, I'll call you back in a bit. Call the suitcase again in about five minutes, yeah?"

"Sure thing." Darcy hung up.

Tony turned his attention towards the car, which pulled up smoothly in front of the villa, let one person out, then drove off again.

Less than ten seconds later, Steve Rogers, no, _Captain America_, stood on the roof in front of Tony, fully suited up.

"Avengers, assemble!" Steve declared, looking perfectly patriotic and impressive.

The only issue was that Tony was seemingly the only other Avenger in the near vicinity, and he was catastrophically hungover.

"Small problem with that, Cap. No idea where the others are."

"How is that possible?" Steve demanded.

"No idea. I'd like to know, though."

"So, what's the plan of action?"

"You tell me, Cap," said Tony, sitting down heavily. "Where the hell do we start?"

"Where was the last place you remember being?" Steve asked, _taking a notepad and pen out of his utility belt._

"I remember mead here, then the bar, then Fury being angry."

"Very helpful," said Steve, sarcastically. He paused. "Do you hear that?"

"Is it my suitcase?" Tony asked, hopefully.

"Something's ringing," said Steve, ignoring Tony.

"Is it my suitcase?" Tony repeated.

Steve shushed him, and started walking towards where the noise was emitting from.

"It's my suitcase!" Tony declared, crawling over to near where Steve was searching. "It had better not be-" He pulled back the covers from Clint's mattress, and picked up the suitcase suit, which was nestled there cosily.

"Whose mattress is that?" Steve asked, curiously.

"Clint's. He clearly tucked my suitcase into bed, the bastard."

"You brought the suitcase suit?" Steve asked, disapprovingly.

"For this exact situation!" Tony insisted, hugging it to his chest.

"And you've checked every room of this house, definitely no one else here?" Steve checked.

"Certain."

"Right. Let's do a quick sweep of the surrounding area, then we'll go to the bars you went to, see if the staff there remember anything."

"Good plan, Cap. Do you really need to be wearing the costume for this?"

"With Loki involved, it's better to be safe than sorry," said Steve, rather primly.

"I keep forgetting about Loki," Tony muttered. "And what about Black Widow?"

"First priority is to reassemble the Avengers, then we can make a more adequate attempt to deal with Loki and Black Widow."

"Got it."

-~(*)~-

**To be addressed in the next chapter: Where the hell is Bruce? Is Hawkeye still naked in the desert? Who is Black Widow and what is she up to?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Avengers: Las Vegas**

**Sorry for the delay in updating, but I'm writing this on holiday, so hopefully I'm forgiven :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely muse.**

Chapter Six

_If I just spread my wings, I can fly_

_R. Kelly_

Reflexively, Clint reached for the bow and arrows on his back.

"Ah, fuck it," he muttered, remembering that he was still buck-ass naked.

The fiery-haired woman peered at him, looking in equal parts bemused and annoyed. She tilted her head slightly in a question.

"I normally have a bow," said Clint, defensively.

A smirk appeared on her beautiful, fine-boned features.

"You were in the bar last night," said Clint, thoughtfully, desperately willing his hungover mind to work faster.

"Correct," the woman said, not lowering her weapon. "And how, exactly, did you find me? Tracking device?" Her voice held a slight Russian accent.

"What? No, I just woke up here."

Her piercing green eyes stared at him coolly. "You woke up here? Just like magic?"

"I have no idea how I got to the desert," Clint said, honestly.

She let her eyes sweep over his body. "And why are you naked?"

"I can't explain that one either," he admitted, uncomfortably.

She flicked off the safety with a practised finger. "Try. What are you doing here?"

Clint spread his arms wide. "Can a bloke not just wake up naked in the desert? I mean, how rare can this actually be?"

The woman eyed him steadily. "And you just happened to find me here?"

"Yep. Wishing I hadn't now, to be honest." Clint sighed. "Can you put the gun down? You're making me feel seriously exposed right now."

"I don't think so," she said, sharply.

"OK, then. So, who are you? You're obviously not just a waitress with some impressive home security."

"Says who?" she challenged.

Clint summoned up as much dignity as he could. "Says a SHIELD agent."

"Ooh," she said, darkly. "Not the right answer." She raised the gun, aiming for a head shot.

-~(*)~-

People were laughing at him.

Tony Stark -sunglasses firmly in place, suitcase suit in hand- was walking the streets of Vegas, and everyone was pointing, laughing, and taking photos.

It didn't help that Steve Rogers was walking alongside him, proudly clothed in his Captain America suit.

Every bar that they ventured into, the manager would snort with laughter at the sight of Tony, before addressing themselves to Steve.

"Yeah, I remember them. Pretty hard to forget having the Avengers in your bar," they all seemed to say.

"Did they all leave together, or separately?" Steve asked, his pen hovering hopefully over his notepad.

"Yeah, they all stumbled out together," they all said, before handing Tony a bill for damages caused.

Until...

"Nah. The doctor left first. The others followed afterwards," said a barman.

Steve smugly wrote in the notepad. "Can you remember what time this was?"

"I'd say around one in the morning," said the barman, with a smirk.

Tony became flustered with the indignity of it being implied that he was some sort of light-weight.

"And what happened when they all left?" Steve asked.

"Well, you've seen the news footage, right? Stark here was running up the street, tearing his clothes off. Thor was picking them up, shouting at him to behave with decency. The other guy was whining about a waitress and singing 'I Believe I Can Fly'."

Steve, to his credit, didn't sigh. "That's... great. Can you remember what happened with the waitress?"

"Er... I think he fancied her, and she turned him down." The barman seemed to think that this was common.

"Which waitress?"

"The blonde one," piped up Tony. "I remember her. She was gorgeous, but Clint said something stupid and scared her off."

"Blonde?" the barman frowned. "That'll be the new girl. Natalie Rushman."

"Natalie Rushman?" Tony held up a finger. "That seems awfully coincidental. I need some suit time. Back in five."

"I don't think we should split up," said Steve, in his most sensible voice.

"Then come with me to the bathroom," Tony snapped, getting irritable with how... _awake_ Steve was, how _unhungover._

"There's a lot of press around, Tony," said Steve, doubtfully.

Tony grabbed Steve's sleeve, and dragged him into the mens' room. There, he opened the suitcase suit, and put on the helmet.

"Welcome back, sir," came JARVIS's familiar voice.

"JARVIS, tell me about Black Widow," Tony requested.

"Black Widow, born Natalia Alianovna Romanova, in Stalingrad, Russia. Height, five feet and seven inches. Weighing in the region of 131lbs. Trained from a young age by the KGB's infamous Red Room Academy. Other aliases include: Nadine Roman, Nancy Rushman, Natalie Rushman, and Natasha Romanoff," said JARVIS, smoothly as always.

"What's her skill-set?"

"She is an expert martial artist, athlete, aerialist, marksman, and weapons specialist. She had extensive espionage training, and is also an accomplished ballerina. According to all reports, she is incredibly intelligent, an excellent strategist, and has a fondness towards psychological manipulation."

"Weapons?"

"The Black Widow has proven to be highly capable at using many forms of weapons. However, she owns three customary weapon sets. Her 'Widow's Bite' consists of two bracelets which fire electro-static energy blasts, which can deliver charges of up to 30,000 volts. Her 'Widow's Line' grappling hooks have also been used many times, to success. And lastly, her 'Widow's Kiss' is an aerosol containing instant knock-out gas, which she has modified."

Tony clicked his tongue a few times. "What does she want? What's in it for her?"

"Her work has mostly been done alone, with remarkable secrecy."

"Try and pinpoint her, in any way you can."

"I shall do my best, sir," answered JARVIS.

Tony removed the helmet, and turned to Steve. "I have reason to believe that Thor, Clint and Bruce have been kidnapped by Black Widow."

-~(*)~-

"You don't want to do that," Clint insisted.

"And why not?" the lady challenged.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Think about it. If you're with SHIELD, you should have heard of me."

Clint thought for a moment, before lunging towards her. She dodged with ease, and tried to line up a shot again. He struck out with his left arm, trying to disorientate her. His blow hit her in the ribs, not hard enough to break them, but enough to bruise and confuse her. She retreated two steps, her face angry.

"So, gun's not your weapon of choice," deduced Clint. "You're good with one, but you prefer hand-to-hand combat. Why?"

She dropped the gun, and powered up her Widow's Bites.

"Thought as much," mused Clint. "Black Widow. Natalia Romanova. You're very much a thorn in SHIELD's side, you know. Some of the agents think you're just a myth. Very few people have ever seen you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Natalia said, with a dark little smile.

"Why are you here?" Clint asked. "What do you want?"

"I'm just doing my job," she replied. "And you're distracting me." She made the first move this time, leaping with amazing agility towards him. Her leg snapped out at the last minute. It would have been a perfect, knock-out roundhouse kick, if Clint hadn't been expecting it. He ducked, and wove past her, staying low. She whirled around, looking faintly pleased at this new challenge.

"Who do you have in there?" Clint demanded, nodding towards the trailer.

"What do you Americans say?" she asked. "'None of your goddamn business'."

"No, I think it is my business," insisted Clint.

She launched towards him again, and they sparred blows off their forearms. Natalia's reinforced padding on her arms meant that her hits left bruises on Clint. She twisted, using her legs as leverage to try to dislodge him. He stayed firm, so she kicked out strongly, trying to dislodge him. He grabbed her booted foot, and tried to twist it. She kicked out, getting him square in the chest. He fell, but pulled her with him.

Natalia landed on top of Clint, and wasted no time in elbowing him in the face. He grunted, blood almost immediately starting to run from his nose. Leaving him no time to recover, she tased him with her Widow's Bite, leaving him sprawled unconcious on the ground.

-~(*)~-

Gradually, Clint regained conciousness. He was handcuffed to a chair in what appeared to be a glass tank.

"I just wanted a fucking bacon sandwich," he muttered, trying to twist his wrists in order to regain feeling in his hands.

"Welcome to the party," said Bruce, who was sitting on the floor opposite him.

-~(*)~-

**See you next chapter, when Tony and Steve continue their detective work :)**


End file.
